


April Fool’s!

by valantha



Series: Fun with drabbles [2]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Academy Era, Bus era, Drabble Collection, Fluff, Gen, Pranks and Practical Jokes, Some Science
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-01
Updated: 2014-04-01
Packaged: 2018-01-17 20:21:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1401259
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/valantha/pseuds/valantha
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Really, Fitz only has himself to blame. He <i>started</i> it.<br/>Three Fitzsimmons April Fool's Day Pranks.</p>
            </blockquote>





	April Fool’s!

Jemma yawned and stretched and clawed her way back up to the world of human interactions and away from the world of cyclic AMP and G protein-coupled receptor signaling cascades.

Fitz had placed a cuppa beside her notebook.

“Oh, my favorite xanthine alkaloid! Thanks Fitz,” she exclaimed, only partway resurfaced.

Jemma wrapped her hands about the familiar warmth and curvature of her favorite mug, took a savoring sniff of bergamot, and then took a swig.

 _Salt. Bitter. Salt!_ She spewed the un-tea all over the lab and her notebook and Fitz.

She glared.

“Happy April Fool’s day!” Fitz said gleefully.

* * *

_Knock knock knock_ “Fitz! Come on, get up! It’s important!” Jemma exclaimed through the dorm room door.

Fitz groggily opened the door, half of his hair sticking straight up, eyes gummy with sleep.

“Fitz! Nature wants you to write a piece on your new forensic quad copter prototypes!” Jemma explained, eyes glittering brightly.

Fitz palmed the sleep from his eyes and began babbling loudly about how he always knew this day would come, and soon he’d hear from Stockholm, and whether a Nature letter was big enough.

Jemma interrupted, “Do you know the date?”

“April first?”

“April Fool!” Jemma exclaimed.

* * *

“Jemma?” Fitz moaned piteously, “I don’t feel so good.”

Jemma turned from her microscope, grateful for a break from the eye-straining work of growth phenotyping. Fitz was pale, paler than normal. Instantly concern rushed forth.

She sat him on one of the Bus’s stools, “Tell me what’s wrong?”

“I feel itchy all over and warm, and, and, and…”

“Yes Fitz?”

“My bum kinda _burns_.”

“Oh,” Jemma girded herself, she’d never wanted to be _that_ kind of doctor, “Let me see.”

Fitz got up, turned about, and pulled down his trousers. A monkey’s tail sprang forth.

“Oh my God!”

“April Fool’s!”


End file.
